


If You Water It, It Will Grow

by hellocecily



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Plant!AU, Plants, Seriously the AU that no one needs but is getting, i have no idea what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 14:20:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6156376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellocecily/pseuds/hellocecily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unbeknownst to him, Iwaizumi Hajime has been taking care of Oikawa Tooru since the very beginning. Or, Hajime waters a plant and it grows into Tooru.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Water It, It Will Grow

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to all the kind and motivating words on tumblr, I managed to get through this story in one day! Hope you enjoy!

            Iwaizumi Hajime was just nine years old when his grandmother passed away. He remembers it vividly, from the overwhelming sadness he felt at her funeral, to the memories and bittersweet laughs shared at the reception. However, what he remembers most, and what he will never forget, is the request she asked of him in her hospital bed. 

 

            _"Hajime, dear," she whispered, motioning him closer with her frail fingers._

_Hajime shyly shuffled over, his hands folded delicately behind his back, afraid that any sudden movement would hurt his grandmother._

_"I have a secret, that only you can know about," she said, a gleam in her eye. Haijime moved closer._

_"What secret, grandma?" Hajime asked, his curious nature peeking through._

_"A magic garden, Hajime, that I've been taking care of for a while now," she softly hummed, as if it were life or death if anyone else but Hajime heard her speak of this._

_"Magic?"_

_"Yes, magic. Just a few months ago, I planted something in my garden. It is supposed to bloom in just another year but," as if on cue, Hajime's grandmother began to cough, "I am positive that I won't be able to see that happen."_

_Hajime frowned and reached for her hand. "What do I do, grandma?"_

_"I want you to keep that tiny plant alive, just for a year. You can do that for me, can't you Hajime? Once it blooms, you'll be treated with a big surprise," she said, a smile pulling across her lips knowingly._

_Hajime gasped in excitement. "A surprise?"_

_"Yes, you see, this magic plant blooms into a person."_

_"You want me to take care of it?" Hajime asked, fully understanding what his grandmother was asking of him._

_"Yes," she said, patting his hands. "It is a big responsibility. But I know you can do it."_

_"What if it blooms? What do I do?"_

_“You don’t have to take care of it, Hajime. But I always wished that the plant would bloom into a boy and the two of you would become dear friends,” she said, giving him a small smile._

~

            Hajime has heard of blooming people - more so, people that emerge from the soil. Once, planet Earth was in turmoil, and the human race was on the brink of extinction. Scientists developed a new way to grow humans, through special seed-like eggs that can be placed into specific soil.

There are a lot of blooming people on the planet today. They have the same genetic makeup as normally birthed humans, except for the fact that they need sunlight to inherently function. In places where the sun doesn’t come out as much, there are photosynthesizing centers. It’s actually a rather universal way to be alive. Blooming people don’t need to have a standard three meals a day, because they get a lot of their energy and nutrients from sunlight.

            Besides the photosynthesizing aspect, blooming people are exactly like normal people. They can feel pain and bleed, give and receive happiness and love, the same way normal people can. It is not abnormal for a blooming person and a normal person to have children. They were modified in a way that they can breed with other people and produce children, without the photosynthesizing genetics.

            Planet Earth isn’t in peril anymore. Blooming people aren’t really as common as they used to be. It's a different form of adoption nowadays. The unique thing about humanoid-plant adoption is that when the blooming person emerges, they are past early developmental stages, mostly around the age of nine or ten. It's a concept that made them popular with elderly people, whom do not want the overwhelming responsibility of a newborn baby, as well as for couples of the same-sex who cannot conceive in the traditional way.

 

~

 

            “Grow!” Hajime yells at the seedling.

            A gentle breeze sends a chill up Hajime’s arms.

            Hajime huffs and sits down beside the tiny plant. He never knew being a gardener would be so… boring…

            After a few moments, Hajime turns back to the seedling, and gently pokes at a leaf.

            “If grandma has been taking care of you for so long, why are you so small?”

            A crow caws in the distance.

            Hajime pouts.

           

~

 

            It’s been four months since Hajime’s grandmother passed away, and his mother finally found out that he’s been sneaking over to his grandmother’s garden to nurture the seedling.

            “Hajime, I know your grandmother loved that plant dearly, but you shouldn’t put so much responsibility on yourself… what are you going to do when it blooms?”

            “Take care of it, obviously!”

            “You aren’t old enough to take care of a person, Hajime,” his mother says, a ghost of a smile upon her lips.

            “I am old enough! I’m almost ten!”

            His mother just laughs and ruffles his hair.

            Hajime rolls his eyes and stomps up to his room. He looks out the window worryingly; the clouds are dark and he knows that too much water can drown the seedling away. He bites his lip and hopes that the storm passes.

            However, a few raindrops turn into a downpour, and Hajime dashes out of his room and out the door, his mother’s calls fading with each clap of thunder. With his father’s black umbrella clasped tightly in his hand, Hajime sprints towards his grandmother’s garden, and to his delight, sees that the plant is not flooded. Soaking wet, and positive that he will be extremely ill tomorrow morning, Hajime crouches down beside the seedling and opens up the umbrella.

            “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you grow safely. I’ll protect you,” he whispers, catching a falling raindrop from one of the seedling’s leaves.

 

~

 

            Today, Hajime is extremely happy. The seedling sprouted a little higher and produced a flower bud!

            The sun is warm and the birds are chirping happily as Hajime spreads a blanket beside the seedling. He pulls out a bento box from the basket his mother packed him, and munches on a salmon-filled onigiri.

            “Only six more months and you’ll bloom,” Hajime says to the bud.

            A gentle, spring breeze passes by, the bud swaying softly.

            “Just six more months,” Hajime sighs.

            Hajime finishes his lunch, and packs up his things. Before he leaves, he picks up his small watering pot and sprinkles a bit of fresh water on the bud.

            With the bud perking up, refreshed and (to Hajime’s eyes) happy, Hajime picks up his things, gives the plant a tiny tap with his index finger, and heads back home.

           

~

 

            It’s been eight months since Hajime first starting taking care of his grandmother’s plant. And today, Hajime is standing before the seedling (if you can call it that anymore), with his mouth agape. Hajime has done his research, of course, but he still cannot believe how fast the plant has been growing for the past two months.

            It has fully sprouted now, standing at almost four feet tall, red camellias blooming beautifully along the stems and vines that protrude from the growth. Hajime takes his watering pot and sprinkles a mixture of water and vitamins, specialized for blooming people in the last few months of growth, over the plant. Hajime smiles fondly and skims his fingertips along the petals of the vibrant red flowers. Each petal has a thin line of deep blue dotting along the edges.

            Hajime knows that this blooming person will be beautiful. If the flowers are full and vivid in color, the individual will grow up to be a healthy, alluring, and exquisite being.

            Hajime pulls his scarf around himself tighter, and frowns when he can see evidence of his breath. It’s falling into winter now, and he is growing anxious. He has school to focus on, of course, but he can’t help but worry about the well being of his plant during class. He finds himself doodling the camellias on the sides of his notebooks, his different hues of red-colored pencils growing dull and short from overuse.

            “It’s getting colder,” Hajime whispers to the plant. “I hope you will be warm enough.”

            Just to be safe, Hajime pulls off his checkered scarf and wraps it around the base of the plant.

           

~

            It was a few days past the year mark, and the plant was to bloom any day. It was full and protruding in the healthiest way. Hajime read his book over and over again to know the signs of when to cut open the plant and pull out the blooming person. A sure sign is when you are able to determine the sex of the blooming person. Hajime was much too embarrassed to do this himself, so he had his mother come to the garden with him one night and shine a flashlight behind the thin walls of the plant body.

 

            “ _It’s a boy, Hajime,” she said, her lips curling into a smile. She couldn’t help but laugh and mention how she felt Hajime was much to young to be told something of the sort._

_“Are you sure we can keep him, mom?” Hajime asked, for what seemed like the hundredth time._

_“Yes, yes. You’ve been taking such good care of him for a year, and your father and I decided that, since we do have the space and the money, we can adopt him,” his mother replied, ruffling his hair._

_Hajime grinned and squeezed his mother tight, his stomach bursting with butterflies in excitement._

_After his mother left, Hajime shined the flashlight behind the plant wall once more, only this time to look at the blooming person’s face. From the illuminated shadow, he could tell that the blooming person must be beautiful._

_Hajime’s heart swooped. He couldn’t wait to see what his blooming person would look like._

_~_

            It’s been a year and a month since Hajime’s grandmother passed away. Hajime is sure that he hasn't smiled in one month, and is most definitely sure he hasn’t laughed. It’s been rough since… the incident.       

            It was after school when it happened.

            Without warning or permission, construction workers bulldozed Hajime’s grandmother’s garden. All of it, demolished into nothing – just bits and remains of all the plants that Hajime cared for, scattered and smashed into the dirt. The red camellias were unmistakable, and Hajime doesn’t really remember much from that day, besides the sounds of his wails, wilted petals, and his own fingernails caked with dirt.

            His parents filed a lawsuit against the construction company, and are currently going through the court process. His mother tried explaining what is going to happen and how the company that essentially killed Hajime’s blooming person is going to pay. Hajime doesn’t really care though. Nothing can bring back an entire year of hard work and faux expectations and extreme emotions Hajime will never look back on fondly.

            A part of him wondered if it were possible for blooming people to cut themselves out… but after reading endless literature, he was met with statistics that didn’t help his situation at all. About a once-in-a-million chance can blooming people come into the world without the assistance of their caretaker. Hajime slammed that book shut and tossed it into his trashcan.

 

            “Hajime… you can’t stay in here and mope forever. What happened was terrible, but you do need to go back to school,” his mother says, smoothing her hand through his hair.

            Hajime systematically nods, and slowly rises out of bed. He rubs his eyes, which are, for the first time in a few days, dry. They are still a bit puffy, though.

 

           

~

 

            A few months after Hajime decided to go back to school, a new kid is standing in the front of the classroom, his hands woven tightly, fingers fidgeting as he introduced himself to the classroom.

            “Uh… my name is Oikawa Tooru…”

            A chorus of, “nice to meet you, Tooru,” reverberates among Hajime’s classmates. Tooru scuffles his way towards the empty desk beside Hajime, and class began.

            “Pst, hey,” a voice from Hajime’s left rings out, and Hajime turns to see the new kid giving him a little wave. Hajime raises an eyebrow.

            “What’s your name?” Tooru whispers, cupping his chin dramatically in his palm.

            “Iwaizumi Hajime,” Hajime huffs, all while trying to focus on what the teacher was writing on the board.

            “Iwa-chan,” Tooru says, a giggle breaking through his lips.

            Hajime frowns. “What? No, just Iwaizumi,” he sternly says, scowling at Tooru’s nickname for him.

            “I like Iwa-chan better,” Tooru chimes, and Iwaizumi growls, but ignores the new kid.

            Oikawa Tooru is extremely annoying, Hajime decided.

 

~

 

            Although Oikawa Tooru drives Iwaizumi Hajime nuts, they nonetheless become unlikely friends. It really started with Tooru following Hajime around like a lost puppy, though.

            Hajime discovered that Tooru was adopted. Whenever Hajime asks if Tooru remembers his biological parents, Tooru always turns away and shrugs. Hajime never misses the blush dusting Tooru’s cheeks, though.

            Hajime doesn’t think much of it.

            Tooru invites Hajime over to his house for a sleepover, and Hajime reluctantly accepts, partially because Tooru asked him a good ten times before he agreed.

            Tooru’s foster parents are really nice, as well as his foster sister. They spoil him rotten, though.

            “And this is my room!” Tooru exclaims, flopping down on his bed.

            Hajime squints.

            “Why is it so bright in here?” he asks, putting his palm over his eyes.

            Tooru’s eyes widen and he sits up to turn off the brighter, fluorescent lights.

            “I’m sorry! I forgot that I left my photosynthesizing lights on!” he explains, sitting back down beside Hajime on his bed.

            “Photosynthesizing lights… why would you…”

            Tooru fiddles with his fingers.

            “Oikawa, are you a blooming person?” Hajime asks, not realizing how fragile his voice sounds. Even though it’s been over a year, Hajime still finds it rough to think back on.

            Tooru shyly nods. “Yeah, I am.”

            “Oh.”

            “Does that… make you think of me differently?” Tooru questions, quietly.

            “No! Of course not, idiot!” Hajime quickly says, giving Tooru’s shoulder a small shove.

 

~

 

            At age fourteen, Iwaizumi Hajime discovers that Oikawa Tooru was adopted because when he bloomed, no one was there.

            “Seriously?” Hajime huffs.

            Tooru shrugs. “I can’t blame them I guess. I actually bloomed myself. Which is really rare, according to my parents.”

            “You bloomed yourself? I thought that was impossible?” Hajime exclaims.

            “Yep!” Tooru brags, putting his hands on his hips. “Only the healthiest and most cared for plant-people can bloom on their own, Iwa-chan!”

            “Don’t let it get to your head, dumbass,” Hajime growls, rolling his eyes.

            Tooru laughs, only to have it quickly die down.

            “What?” Hajime asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

            “It doesn’t make sense, though. If I was so carefully cared for, why didn’t I ever meet the person who took all that time to watch over me as a plant? You would think they would have been there when I was about to bloom,” Tooru complains.

            Hajime frowns. “Well, maybe something happened that was out of their control. You can’t blame them like that, Oikawa,” Hajime snaps.

            “Well, obviously they didn’t care enough for me. They never even bothered to look for me after I bloomed,” Tooru argues back.

            “Did you even think that maybe they thought something happened to the plant? Like you said, plant-people that bloom on his or her own is rare. How would your caretaker have known? They could have seen your plant wall cut open and assumed the worst!” Hajime is yelling now.

            “What would you know about how they feel? You’ve never taken care of a blooming person seedling before, Iwaizumi!” Tooru huffs back, and Hajime loses it.

            “Screw you, Oikawa! You don’t know shit about me!” Hajime explodes. He picks up his backpack and storms out of Tooru’s house.

            Tooru sits silently in his room, his eyes wide in shock over his best friend’s outburst.

 

~

 

            “Oh, Tooru! What a surprise! Is that cake?” Hajime’s mother asks, moving aside to let him into the house.

            “Hi Iwaizumi-san. Yes, it is. It’s an apology cake. I didn’t bake it, because I suck at baking, but my mom did,” Tooru says, a small smile upon his lips.

            “Well, that was thoughtful of you, Tooru,” she says, taking the cake from him. “Hajime is upstairs in his room.”

            Tooru swallows anxiously. “Thanks.”

            Tooru slowly walks up the stairs towards Hajime’s room. It’s been a few days since their fight, and he has been thinking of the best way to apologize.

            Tooru hesitantly knocks on Hajime’s door.

            “What, mom?”

            “I-it’s Oikawa.”

            Silence.

            “Can I come in, Iwa-chan?”

            The door swings open.

            “Fine,” Hajime mumbles, moving aside to let Tooru in his room.

            This is the first time Tooru has been in Hajime’s room, and the two of them know this. Hajime scratches the back of his neck, and Tooru twiddles his thumbs.

            Hajime’s room is very different than how Tooru imagined. In comparison to Tooru’s room, which is bright (of course) and full of strange knick-knacks and trinkets, a mural of multicolored galaxies, and various books relating to all of his latest obsessions, Hajime’s room is very… well – plain wouldn’t be the right word.

            It’s secretive.

            His bed is neatly made, covered with various layers of stitched blankets and quilts, which are definitely homemade. Strewn on his desk are, of course, his school texts, as well as a blank stack of lined-paper, ready to be written upon by the dull pencil resting above it. Tattered journals are compactly fitted into Hajime’s bookcase, with a fresh one resting on his nightstand beside his bed. Tooru also doesn’t miss the various gardening books pressed tightly against one another, collecting dust. Hanging in front of his window, are plant terrariums, the vines hanging down and softly swaying with the wind seeping through Hajime’s window. Along his windowsill are three small glass pots filled with soil, most likely housing seeds that have yet to sprout.

            Tooru didn’t know that Hajime had an interest in gardening.

            Hajime gives up on fighting the blush that explodes up the back of his neck, red now staining the tips of his ears.

            “Well? What are you here for?” Hajime huffs, his eyes looking everywhere except Tooru.

            Tooru brings his hand to ruffle his hair, a nervous habit of his, along with the way he always seems to play with his fingers.

            “I… ah… I am here to sincerely apologize. I shouldn’t have spoken,” Tooru glances at the pots of dirt on Hajime’s windowsill, “erm… assuming… I shouldn’t have spoken ill about you without assuming anything. It was ignorant,” he finishes, his teeth gnawing into his bottom lip. Hajime takes note of another nervous habit.

            Hajime rolls his eyes and flops down on his bed. “Apology accepted. I’m sorry I exploded on you. Stop acting all nervous. It’s creeping me out, Crappy Oikawa.”

            Tooru laughs, and flops down beside Hajime. His eyes follow the slow-spinning fan blades. A comfortable moment of silence passes between the two boys.

            “I didn’t know you liked to garden, Iwa-chan,” Tooru speaks up, turning his head to smirk at his friend, whose face was turning a deep shade of red.

            “S-shut up! It’s a hobby I picked up from my grandmother,” Hajime stutters. He squashes his palm against Tooru’s snide expression.

            “Ouch, Iwa-chan! You brute!” he exclaims, his sound of mock-pain exposed by his giggles. He brings his hand to the one upon his face, curling fingers together in an attempt to pry Hajime’s hand off his face. His eyes squint as laughter curls up from his chest and serenades Hajime’s room.

            The sun peeks through Hajime’s window, yellowish, soft white rays illuminating Tooru’s golden-brown irises in an iridescent manner as he opens his eyes after his laughing fit. Hajime’s hand goes slack against Tooru’s and he turns away, his lips pressed tightly together as he forgets how to breathe.

            Tooru’s giggles die down into soft chuckles and he sits up, the sunlight fading behind his head, leaving behind a faint halo.

            “I brought apology cake,” he says, giving Hajime one of his real smiles, all teeth and dimples to show.

            “If it’s shitty chocolate, I’m not eating it,” Hajime huffs, sitting up as well.

            Tooru puts a hand on his chest, appalled. “Iwaizumi Hajime, I am ashamed that you think so lowly of me in our best friendmanship.”

            _Best friendmanship? What kind of word is that?_ Hajime muses.

            “Of course I know that someone as boring as you would love vanilla.”

            “Shitty-kawa!”

 

~

 

            Oikawa Tooru coming over to the Iwaizumi’s house became a common occurrence. Maybe it was because of Iwaizumi-san’s delicious onigiri, or the comfort of Hajime’s room. Hajime wasn’t going to start complaining though. Although it seems he would find Tooru’s overbearing presence to be a bit of nuisance, it’s actually quite the opposite. At school, Tooru’s constant female attention gets a little (a lot) irritating. However, in the quiet of his room, with textbooks open and the soft sound of his grandmother’s wind chimes moving due to the breeze from his window, hanging out with Tooru is relaxing.

            “You want some food?” Hajime asks, closing his Japanese history text.

            Tooru looks up at him through the rim of his reading glasses, his tongue poking out in-between his pink lips. He nods, and gives Hajime a sweet smile. Hajime tries to ignore the way his stomach twirls.

            “Okay, I’ll be back. Don’t touch anything, dumbass,” he says.

            “Rude!” Tooru exclaims, sticking his tongue out and scrunching up his face.

            Hajime just laughs, and closes the door to his room.

            Tooru finishes writing a Japanese to English translation sentence out, and sets down his pen. He looks around Hajime’s room, his lips pursed in curiosity.

            Tooru isn’t a snoop, unless he had a good reason. However, one day he was taking (faking) a nap in Hajime’s bed, and through his sneaky squints, he noticed Hajime crouching over a plain, wooden box that he pulled from underneath his nightstand. Hajime opened the box, released a breath of relief, and slid it back underneath. Tooru snapped his eyes shut then, and pretended to be asleep for the next few minutes after that.

            Tooru shuts his text and rolls across Hajime’s bed, dropping down onto the floor in front of the nightstand. He looks over his shoulder at the door, and with confirmed resolve, reaches his fingers underneath the nightstand and pulls out the wooden box. He takes his curiosity to the next level, and opens the box.

 

~

 

            Iwaizumi Hajime is seventeen when Oikawa Tooru is admitted to the hospital one day after volleyball practice. Of course, it was the one day Hajime couldn’t make it to practice, staying behind to tutor a few of his younger classmen in plant biology. He receives the text from Yahaba, and nearly tips over the desk when scrambling for his things.

            Besides nearly riding his bike into moving traffic, he makes it to the hospital in one piece. After asking reception where Oikawa Tooru’s room was, he huffs his way up the stairs and stumbles into Tooru’s room.

            “Ah, Iwa-chan! Did you run here? Just for me, you shouldn’t ha -.”

            “Cut the crap, asshole. What happened?” Hajime snaps, setting his book bag down in exhaustion.

            Tooru’s parents look at Hajime with soft expressions, Tooru’s dad patting his shoulder, and his mother pressing a palm to his cheek, leaving him and Tooru alone.

            “Well?” Hajime sits down on the chair beside Tooru’s bed. Hajime notices how exceptionally bright and warm the room is, and comes to a realization.

            “You, you fuc- you damn moron!” Hajime exclaims, reaching for the front of Tooru’s hospital gown. Tooru just gives Hajime his signature fake smile.

            “It slipped my mind,” he says, pursing his chapped lips.

            “Slipped your mind my ass! You’re purposefully ignoring your photosynthesizing doses! You bastard, y-you,” Hajime’s face is red in either anger or extreme embarrassment over how worked up he’s getting.

            “Iwaizumi, I’m not _purposefully_ ignoring my exposure sufficiency. I just don’t have time to sit in the sun when I need to be practicing for finals,” Tooru says, as if it’s the most obvious concept in the world.

            Hajime grinds his teeth and grips Tooru’s gown tighter.

            “You can’t play volleyball if you don’t get the fucking nutrients you need, you piece of shit!”

            “Language, Iwa-chan, honestly,” Tooru chides, and Hajime nearly busts a head gasket. He releases his grip on the material, and lightly shoves Tooru into the hospital bed. He hunches over on the cold metal chair, and puts his face in his hands.

            Tooru looks over at Hajime knowingly, a soft smile upon his lips.

            “I’m sorry for worrying you, Hajime,” he gently whispers.

            Hajime just shakes his head.

            “Hajime?” Tooru asks, his eyebrows now furrowed in worry. He leans over and grabs Hajime’s hands, and pulls them off his face. To his horror, Hajime is on the brink of tears.

            “I-I don’t know why I’m so upset…” Hajime mumbles, ripping his hands from Tooru’s and aggressively wiping away his eyes.

            Tooru plays with his thumbs in his lap.

            “I am sorry, Hajime… I will be more careful…”

            “You better.”

            Tooru chuckles. “Yes, mom.”

            “I’m not joking, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

           

~

           

            “Are you hungry?” Hajime asks, as always, while the two of them are studying in his room.

            Tooru nods, giving Hajime his usual smile underneath the glare of his glasses. And, as usual, Hajime’s heart beats just a little bit faster. With that, the door closes.

            Tooru takes a deep breath, and closes his economics text.

            He reaches into his book bag, and pulls out a glass-pressed red camellia, giving it a fond smile.

            He crouches down in front of Hajime’s nightstand, and pulls out the wooden box. Of course, this has become a common thing for Tooru to do whenever Hajime leaves him alone in his room. He removes the top of the box, but not before looking over his shoulder first. He smiles when he sees the similar glass-pressed red camellia within the box.

            Carefully, always carefully, Tooru lifts up the memento and presses his lips against the glass. However, this time, he places his own memento inside Hajime’s box along with the other, as well as a short note. Before closing the box, he softly skims the tips of his fingers along the picture of Hajime beside a beautifully bloomed plant, adorning the same red camellias.

            The special thing about blooming people is that each plant only produces a particular flower special to each individual. Of course, there are other blooming people that grow red camellias. However, on the petals of each flower that Tooru bloomed, small specks of cerulean blue splayed the edges.

            When Tooru first opened Hajime’s wooden box and saw the pressed red camellia with the speckled blue, he nearly fainted in sheer shock. He left immediately after that, feigning sickness to a very concerned Hajime, and ran home. He stumbled into his room, and pulled out his identical glass-pressed knick-knack, and cried himself to sleep whilst hugging the memento.

            He gently pushes the box back underneath the nightstand, and crawls up onto his spot on Hajime’s bed. It has taken him a good two years to muster up the courage to tell Hajime, and he finds himself wanting to quickly duck back over under the nightstand and undo what he’s done. However, at that moment, Hajime comes back in, holding up a tray full of freshly baked sweets.

            Tooru swallows down his anxiety along with a dark chocolate macaroon.

 

~

 

            He knows that it’s a bit of a sadistic routine. Nonetheless, every night before bed, Hajime ruefully opens his memory box and kisses his glass-pressed flower.

            However, this time, his heart freezes and his lungs shrivel up as his hand hovers just above two preserved red-camellias with the same blue dotted markings.

            Reeling over the fact that it is quite obvious who snuck the memento into his memory box, he picks up the tiny note anyways. With shaking hands, he unfolds it once, and bites his bottom lip to halt its quivering.

            “ _Now I’m even more sorry for that one time I said you didn’t know what it felt like to take care of a blooming person. Thank you for taking care of me from the very beginning, but thank you even more for taking care of me afterwards, into now. I love you, Hajime.” – Tooru_

Hajime let the note drop from his fingers back into the box. He lifts up both glass-pressed flowers, holding them tight to his chest. He sits for a few moments, allowing his heart to defrost and his lungs to inflate once more. He blinks away the burn to his eyes and gently places the mementos back into his box, pushing it under his nightstand. He stands up in a bit of a daze, his arms subconsciously reaching for his jacket, and his fingers nimbly tying the laces to his shoes. Once his actions catch up to his brain, Hajime is out his front door, running as fast as his legs allow, the sounds of his mother’s calls disappearing into the night.

            When Hajime stops running, he is looking up at Oikawa Tooru’s house, his mind mushed up, and his heart in his mouth. He knocks on the door, nothing on the tip of his tongue. He just needs to see Tooru.

            “Hajime, what brings you -.”

            “Is Tooru home?” Hajime interrupts, his breathing shallow and winded.

            “No, he just left about thirty minutes ago. Said he needed to go for a walk… Hajime, is everything all right?” Tooru’s mother asks, her face pulled in deep concern.

            “I… I don’t know… did he say where he was going?” Hajime asks, licking his lips in anticipation.

            “No but… I know he has his special places,” she says, giving Hajime a soft smile.

            “Oh.”

            “It’s cold out, and you’re only in pajamas, do you want to come inside?” she asks him, opening the door wider.

            Hajime shakes his head and puts his hands up. “No, I-I’ll just head home, thank you so much Oikawa-san,” Hajime breathes, bowing and apologizing for intruding so late. She just waves him off.

            “Don’t be so formal,” she says, a smirk upon her lips. She reaches for Hajime’s head and gives him a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Thank you, Hajime. For everything.”

           Hajime doesn’t miss the meaning behind her words, and finally, his brain starts working again. He grabs her hands and kisses the top of her knuckles, and as fast as he came, leaves.

 

~

 

            Hajime hasn't been back to what was left of his grandmother’s garden in a few years. Although they won the lawsuit against the construction company, it took Hajime a long time to muster up the courage to return back to his grandmother’s empty house and the patch of dried land where her garden once flourished. The first time back, he couldn’t stay for longer than a few minutes, the memory of his extreme childhood sadness replaying over and over again in his mind.

            Hajime has never ran this fast to his grandmother’s garden – running even faster than the time Hajime thought the storm would flush Tooru away. Sure enough, sitting in the patch of dirt that a once vibrant plant sprouted from, is Tooru. Hajime’s breath catches in his throat, and his pace turns into slow steps of disbelief.

            Tooru’s head turns, the clear night sky and the full moon illuminating the fond expression upon his features as his eyes meet Hajime’s.

            “Iwa-chan,” Tooru whispers, when Hajime stops just three feet away from where Tooru was sitting.

            Without a word, Hajime kneels down in front of Tooru, and places his hands across his cheeks, tilting his head up towards the sky and then side-to-side. Hajime’s thumbs skim across Tooru’s prominent cheekbones, and Tooru’s eyes flutter closed in comfort. Hajime places a firm kiss upon Tooru’s forehead, and reluctantly pulls away, leaving his hands cupped along Tooru’s cheeks.

            “How long did you know, Tooru?” Hajime asks. Tooru’s heart jumps at the sound of Hajime using his first name.

            Tooru brings up a hand and places it on top of Hajime’s. “Too long. Two years.”

            “Two years?” Hajime groans, removing his hands from Tooru’s cheek. Tooru panics for a just a moment, but releases a breath of relief when Hajime’s hands circle around Tooru’s shoulders. Hajime presses his face into Tooru’s neck and longingly sighs.

            “Are you angry with me?” Tooru whispers, his fingers sliding up Hajime’s back and into his hair.

            “Yes,” Hajime huffs against Tooru’s skin, causing goosebumps to crawl down his spine.

            “You don’t seem mad,” Tooru hums, his hands skimming down to Hajime’s face to pull him away from his neck.

            “Yeah, well, I’m also over-the-moon happy, which is overruling my anger switch at the moment,” Hajime says, a giddy smile finally pulling across his lips.

            “I like it when your anger switch is turned off,” Tooru coos.

            “Dumbass,” Hajime says, too exhausted to come back with anything more biting.

            “I am sorry, Hajime, for not telling you for a long time… and for all the times before when I was insensitive,” Tooru says, disturbing the mood.

            “You’re fine, you’re just fine, Tooru,” Hajime reassures, embracing Tooru to his chest.

            “I love you,” Tooru breathlessly whispers, and Hajime holds onto him tighter. Tooru pulls away from Hajime, to accentuate his next few words.

            “I’d be in love with you even if you weren’t the one who watched over me as a seedling… I was in love with you before I knew, I think,” Tooru confesses.

            Hajime releases a winded laugh, one hand back on Tooru’s cheek and the other tangling itself in Tooru’s messy hair.

            “I’ve been in love with you for ages, Tooru,” he whispers.

            “Yeah?” Tooru hums, blinking slowly.

            “Yeah.”

            Tooru leans forward and places his soft lips upon Hajime’s, arms circling each other and knees pressing into wet dirt.

 

~

 

            It’s a bright summer day, the sun shining excellently and the sky a vibrant blue. More specifically, this kind of day is Oikawa Tooru’s favorite. After paying their respects and, of course, placing a bouquet of red camellias at Hajime’s grandmother’s grave, the couple decided to go for a picnic at their favorite spot.

            Hajime lays out the light blue stitched blanket over the dirt, Tooru quickly flopping down and fanning himself.

            “It’s hot out today,” he complains, and Hajime gently swipes him on the back of the head.

            “Ouch!”

            “Help me unpack, dork.”

            “Okay!” Tooru singsongs, whistling happily as he and Hajime pull out their lunch from the picnic basket they packed for this outing.

            The two of them sit in a comfortable silence, eating out of their bentos and enjoying the warm summer breeze that passes through occasionally. After they finish eating, cloud watching, and sharing a few kisses, they decide that it’s time to pack up and head home.

            “Oh, Tooru, make sure you put the blue package of the powered vitamins into the water. I don’t want a repeat of last time,” Hajime scolds, folding the blanket on top of the picnic basket.

            “I know, Hajime, sheesh. It’s been 6 months, I think I know what I’m doing by now,” Tooru scoffs, gently sprinkling fresh water over the small exposed seedling. After setting down the watering pot, Tooru crouches down and taps on one of the leaves.

            “Hi there, little guy, only a few more months. Hang in there!” Tooru encourages.

            “It can’t hear you yet,” Hajime says, kneeling down besides Tooru. He kisses his fingertip and places it on one of the seedling’s leaves as well.

            “You talked to me all the time, Hajime, and I heard you,” Tooru says, sticking out his tongue.

            Hajime rolls his eyes, the smile upon his lips contradicting the action. “Now you’re just making stuff up.”

            “Am not.”

            “Are too.”

            Hajime laughs and kisses the pout off of Tooru’s face.

 

 

           

           

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i want to grow my own oikawa tooru :(


End file.
